Lieutenant Cabbel
by The Rational One
Summary: The first-hand account of an ambitious but frustrated Imperial officer as he faces his toughest challenge yet.


_I've waited for this my whole life...to join the Imperial Officer's Corps and serve my Empire with distinction_.

My name is Cabbel, and I am a proud member of the Imperial Officer Candidate School's most recent graduating class. I victoriously and simultaneously obtain both my certificate, rank, and first assignment: I will serve as a lieutenant of the Imperial Navy on Star Destroyer _Avenger,_ a most prestigious assignment on one of the Empire's most renowned vessels. I relish in the glory that awaits me serving on the _Avenger_ , as well as serving alongside none other than the legendary Darth Vader.

For years I've aspired to ascend the ranks of the Imperial military and obtain a career befitting a man of my station. Regrettably, my belated enrollment to the school prevented me from participating in the historical Battle of Yavin, now two years past. I can only imagine how my presence would have possibly altered the outcome of the battle. I still recall those less-tumultuous times when the Rebellion displayed far less courage. Between my studies I would read the latest Imperial reports detailing the campaigns against the rebels. With every engagement we pushed them deeper into the outer rim territories. I was sure we would drive them from the known galaxy altogether. Then the dreadful news came that changed the universe forever. The Empire's ultimate weapon, the _Death_ _Star_ , was destroyed, and the loss of life tremendous. By the time reinforcements reached Yavin, the rebels had vanished. I became determined to personally crush the Rebellion myself after that day, so great was my hatred of them.

There was another who took the news of the _Death Star's_ demise in a less…sympathetic light. My dear friend, Namé, with whom I also attended the Officer Candidate School, seemingly rejoiced at the news.

"Careful, Namé," I would tell her. "You mustn't display such seditious behavior. You know we're instructed to report such behavior to the administrators. Please, for the love of our friendship, keep these personal feelings to yourself. I'll never betray you, but someone else might. I don't want to see you shipped off to a re-education camp…or worse."

"Pssh" she would respond in her usual flair of apathy. "I'd like to see them try. As soon as I see a chance to leave I'm taking it, and then I'm gone forever."

Namé and I were similar in many regards. We had grown close during our time at the Officer's School; she and I would have served the Empire together, but prior to Yavin, our friendship endured its greatest test. Her home world of Alderaan was completely annihilated by the _Death Star's_ super weapon, and Namé would never be the same again. The destruction of Alderaan yielded many defections, and we lost thousands of pilots, officers, soldiers, and a host of other Imperial staff to the whims of treachery. Alderaan had Rebel tendencies, and we all knew it, hence my surprise to the magnitude of these self-proclaimed Imperials who turned a blind eye towards the activities of their home world. It was only a matter of time before they, too, showed their true colors.

It's been almost three years since I've seen my good friend. Part of me would sacrifice it all just to see her face one last time. She departed suddenly and without a farewell, making good on her promise to leave and never return. I doubt she expected that she could never truly leave, not for me at least. She frequently occupies my thoughts, and she still follows me wherever I go…wherever the Empire sends me.

Currently, the Empire has sent me to the Hoth system. Our navy is spread thin looking for the Rebel Alliance. A small fire will erupt on one end of the galaxy, and we rush forward to extinguish it, only to find the blaze diminished, and another fire started anew elsewhere. One day, when they deplete their seemingly endless reserve of sanctuary systems, we will stamp the Rebels out of existence. High Command has reason to suspect they may now be hiding in the Hoth system, and we have our orders from Lord Vader himself to deploy probe droids to detect any trace of the Rebels. I will admit that The Officer Candidate School failed to prepare us petty officers for these trying months of search and destroy. Entire fleets would be mobilized at the slightest hint of Rebel activity, only to discover that the threat is minimal or nonexistent, and then we would return to drawing board, starting our search again. I longed for real action.

Some time had passed since our most recent group of probes had been deployed, and I found myself callously staring from an upper deck window on the command bridge of my Destroyer, my hands clasped behind my back.

"Lieutenant Cabbel," came a voice from behind.

I wheeled around at the sound of a familiar voice from my commanding officer.

"Captain Needa, Sir!" I proclaim as I execute a flawless salute, my standard issue Imperial boots clacking together at the heels.

Captain Needa grinned. "One of our probes made contact with what we believe to be a Rebel outpost on the sixth planet of the system. Lord Vader himself has ordered the remainder of the fleet to assemble, and we will descend on the planet as one. We have our coordinates. Prepare to make the jump to lightspeed."

"Yes, Captain." I said maliciously. _At last,_ I thought, _a chance to prove myself._

"And Lieutenant..."

"Sir," I replied.

"Your post has been transferred. Once the fleet has assembled, report to Captain Lennox on Star Destroyer _Tyrant."_

Captain Needa departed and went to his position on the command bridge to await our jump to hyperspace. I dare not question the order aloud, but I could not help but wonder why I was being transferred to a different Star Destroyer. I gave it no more thought, and ordered the crew to input coordinates. Soon we would rendezvous with Lord Vader and the fleet.

We emerged from hyperspace to a marvelous sight: a massive Dreadnought Class Star Destroyer, Lord Vader's personal flagship, surrounded by a flotilla of smaller Imperial Class I and II Destroyers. I wasted no time in boarding a shuttle for my new assignment. The _Tyrant_ received me in the main hanger bay, and I made my way to the command bridge. Though the _Tyrant_ was a Class I, whereas the _Avenger_ a Class II, I had no difficulty in finding the main corridors and elevators. When I finally reached the bridge, I identified my new commanding officer and approached.

"Lieutenant Cabbel reporting, Sir." I spoke as I offered a salute.

"At ease." replied this…Captain Lennox. "Our task is to accompany the fleet to Hoth and prevent Rebel ships from fleeing the system."

"So, the Rebels are indeed there?" I inquired.

"Lord Vader is sure of it. Our orders come directly from him. Prepare for lightspeed travel." Lennox ordered.

I obeyed and ensured that the command bridge crew had correctly imputed the coordinates for Hoth, as given to us by our Fleet Commander, the inept Admiral Ozzle. When all systems checked out properly in accordance to Imperial procedure, I ordered the jump to hyperspace, and the _Tyrant_ followed the rest of Vader's fleet to Hoth, and to glory. How I wished Namé was here with me.

The fleet came out of hyperspace in full view of the planet, a remote, icy abyss. A massive energy shield was among our scanners' first readings. Lord Vader was correct regarding the presence of rebels, and it became clear that we couldn't simply blast them from above. The only option was a ground assault. I was quite displeased in these developments. Being a navy officer, I knew my role here would be limited. As the fleet spread out, landing craft were deployed to commence the invasion. Given the nature of our deployment, it became painfully clear that the _Tyrant_ was reduced to mere blockade duty. We would be lucky to see any action at all here today. I paced up and down the command bridge making sure that all crew members were at their posts, ready to jump into action if called. The short-ranged scanners soon filled the bridge with their wild beeping and visual flashing. I rushed over to the command panel, and took great joy in what I saw. Rebel ships, three total, were heading straight for us. I rushed over to Captain Lennox.

"Sir," I spoke. "Rebel ships are coming into our sector."  
"Good, our first catch of the day." He replied triumphantly.

I stood next to him and gazed out of the window, searching for the rebels. I quickly spotted them as they came into view. The three ships consisted of a medium shuttle and two small fighter craft: easy pickings for our Destroyer. Upon further gaze I noticed a green flash on the planet's surface behind the Rebels. The light beam grew larger, and its glare more intense as it careened towards our position.

 _They have surface artillery!_

"Evasive Action!" cried Captain Lennox, but it was too late. The Rebel's planetary cannon pelted the _Tyrant_ with multiple rounds of Ion shot, disabling our entire vessel. We veered helplessly off course as our ship lost all control, allowing the rebels to casually fly by, almost as if mocking our plight. I clinched my first in agony. Our only chance at what limited action we would see on this glorious day for the Empire could literally be seen passing us by while we drifted in orbit. I noticed something peculiar about one of the rebel fighters. It was an x-wing model, though it had unusual markings on the side: two horizontal bars painted in red. I watched it fly by along with the rest of our prey, and then returned my focus to the _Tyrant._ Technical crews were scrambled in a vain attempt to repair the ship in time to pursue the rebels, but we knew it would be some time before navigation and control was back online. Our only option was to sit, wait, and watch Lord Vader carry the Empire to glory without us.

The pyrrhic victory became known as the Battle of Hoth. We drove the Rebels from their base, and they fled once more into the reaches of space. If only we had caught them as they fled…if only we had prevented them from leaving, then the Rebellion would be crushed once and for all. I felt total shame in addition to something else…something less characteristic of an Imperial Officer. I could not help but feel as though the Rebels that slipped by, the _Tyrant_ specifically, would return to haunt me.

After Hoth, we followed Lord Vader in pursuit of high-priority Rebel leaders on board a small freighter. The capture of these individual Rebels, we believed, would outweigh the greater pursuit of the Alliance as a whole. The _Tyrant_ fearlessly followed the fleet into an asteroid field in pursuit. Fighter squadrons were deployed to ensure that no place remained uncovered. Our efforts lead to many casualties, but to Imperial High Command, such casualties were acceptable if the mission was of great enough importance. After what felt like an eternity of sweeping asteroids for one ship, we were finally ordered to leave the asteroid field and converge on Star Destroyer _Avenger_. Ironically, my old assignment had been the ship to find our target, and was currently in hot pursuit. Had I not been transferred, I, too, could assume an active role in the engagement.

 _No matter._ I thought as we left the asteroid field.

 _Avenger_ could be seen in the distance as a small, gray dot against the black backdrop of the galaxy sprinkled with stars and distant worlds. We made full speed in that direction. As we inched closer, the other Star Destroyers came into view, as well as Vader's own. The _Avenger_ came to a halt as we entered its area. This "high-priority" target was nowhere in sight. Only later did we learn that the target eluded capture, as is the way of typical rebel scum, and that we would have to deploy once more. My former superior, Captain Needa, paid the ultimate price for this failure.

The ensuing months found me serving random assignments of escort, monitoring, and filing endless quantities of paperwork. Due to the resilience of the Rebellion as well as its fluid tactics, the Empire shifted its policy in an effort to adapt and better confront the treat. Officers would be retrained to perform on all fronts, not limited to ground command or navy command alone. As such, an army officer resumed my post in the Imperial Navy, and my new assignment was to an army-run prison on a wasteland moon of a backwoods planet whose name I cannot even recall. My concerns of never seeing action reached newfound heights, as I could be assured that nothing of significance would ever happen here; this prison only housed minor criminals. The planetary system offered no strategic value, and the garrison here boasted only a few dozen guards. We weren't even worth the thought of consideration, but it was for that very reason, the rebels chose to hit us here.

I reclined in my office chair enjoying a manuscript dictating early Imperial history when the alarms rang out. The abruptness of the commotion almost caused me to lose balance, but I quickly gained control of myself and sprinted from my office to the command tower.

"What's happening?!" I demanded as I burst into the control room.

"Lieutenant Cabbel," replied a frantic panel operator. "That's just it, we don't know. Two guards were found unconscious in corridor B. We've deployed all available men in that direction to search the area."

The prison's architecture loosely resembled a web, with all corridors circulating the perimeter, and side corridors leading to the prison center where the control tower could be found. Offsetting the otherwise symmetrical design were two landing pads, one large enough to receive the larger prison vessels, and a smaller one designated for personal craft. Corridor B led directly to the smaller landing pad, which currently housed my own personal shuttle. I immediately assumed the worst case scenario by which a horde of escaped prisoners would use my own ship as an escape craft. My humiliation would be complete, and I would never be given the chance to serve in a high-ranking position. If an escape was made under my command, my career in the Imperial military would be over.

I dashed out of the command tower and sprinted down the stairs towards the main network of corridors. Running through the halls, I noticed that there were no opened cells; all prisoners were secure along my path. I found the intersection to Corridor B and turned towards the landing pad. Continuing my journey, I found the two guards mentioned to me by the control tower operator. Further down the hall I noticed another team of guards doubled over, their bodies lifeless. They had been shot dead. I reached the exit leading out to the landing pad, only to find that the magnetic seal had been blasted away. There was no point in entering my secure password when I could simply walk through the gaping hole that once contained a blast door. I raced over to my shuttle to find more bodies, this time they were simple crewmen, repairmen, and other non-soldier type employees of the Empire. I did not count a single prisoner among the dead, or any rebels for that matter.

The landing ramp to my shuttle was still open, indicating that if someone was in fact inside, they had not yet closed it or initiated the launch procedure. I drew my blaster pistol from its holster and slowly crept up the ramp into my ship. I looked towards the front of the ship and saw several lights flashing at once. Standing above the control panel was a lone rebel commando, wearing a jacket that bore two red horizontal bars on the back.

 _Could it be?_ I thought. _This is the same Rebel that flew the x-wing._

I felt an intense anger broiling inside of me, as my pride had been wounded by this rebel at Hoth. I could finally settle the score and bring this murdering rebel to justice.

I raised my pistol at the commando. "Slowly turn." I ordered.

"I know that voice..." echoed the rebel. I nearly dropped my gun in astonishment as the commando turned to face me. The identity of this murdering fiend...this rogue saboteur...this...this outright traitor...was none other than my dear Namé.

"You?!" I cried in disbelief while lowering my pistol.

"Hello, Cabbel. It's been a while. Still wearing the Imperial insignia I see."

Namé reached into her jacket and withdrew a small pistol of her own, presumably the one she used to kill part of the prison staff. She raised it at me, and I answered in kind by raising mine at her.

"How could you do this?" I demanded of her.

"What, you mean avenge my people, my family, and my home by taking up arms against the Empire? How could you even ask that of me?" she responded.

"I knew you wouldn't serve, but joining the Alliance...this is something else entirely."

She looked at me with disappointment. "I don't expect you to understand," she said, "But the Alliance can bring the galaxy something that the Empire never can: freedom, peace, and life!"

 _Life?!_ I thought. _Tell that to the men you killed._

I looked her dead in the eye. "It still doesn't explain what you're doing here."

"You see, my old friend, I need this ship."

"Why?"

"For the Rebellion of course!" Namé laughed maniacally. "We've learned that the Empire is building a new Death Star near Endor. We're going to use this ship to infiltrate their shield generator and shut it down. Naturally, the Empire would recognize its own stolen shuttle, so we had to choose an Imperial outpost so remote, so unnoticeable and insignificant, that we can steal from it all we need, and the Empire would easily forget, assuming they cared in the first place. Think about it, Cabbel. If you had to report a stolen craft from a little base as this, how long would it take that report to reach the eyes of someone who cared? Certainly not before we launch our next offensive. That's why I need this ship...this one, and no other."

 _What is she doing? She just laid out the entire Rebel strategy in detail. Why would she do that?_

"Why are you telling me this?" I asked her. I needed to know.

"Simple..." she responded. "because I know that you won't tell anyone."

 _Arrrgggg! She's right!_

She's put me in an impossible position. She knows I would never hurt her, even if she is a rebel. She knows I could never do anything to her. If she took this ship, I would have to order my sentries not to fire on her. She knows she can just walk out of here. But in doing so I risk the Imperial society that I love. I risk the Emperor's life. I risk everything.

"So," she said with a smirk, "are you going to lower your weapon, or are you actually going to choose the Empire over me, your Namé?"

"I choose..." I couldn't believe the situation I found myself in. This isn't real life. I holstered my pistol. "I choose...you." There, I finally said it. I choose Namé. I would abandon it all and fly away with her on this ship if she'd but ask me.

Namé released a loving smile. "I know you do."

She pulled the trigger as I reflected on my final thoughts.

 _I'll never betray you_.


End file.
